


False Reassurances and The Bitter Taste of a Blade on his Pale Arms.

by bylerthrives



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, love or host, this is a vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bylerthrives/pseuds/bylerthrives
Summary: TW: Heavy Self HarmBad craves to be in control of the feelings that grow crazily around his heart like weeds. He wants to cut them away with the sharp edge of his blade. Maybe he will. Something in his head tells him to stop as he reaches for the razors that reside safely under his sink. Something in his head is screaming at him to not do it. He doesn't listen. He can’t, cause Skeppy is no longer looking at him, he is no longer there to reassure him that every ounce of hatred that he feels for himself is false.ormy own twisted version of the love or host aftermath.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 113





	False Reassurances and The Bitter Taste of a Blade on his Pale Arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to cope with life and the loss of my own relationship with the person I loved so this is completely self indulgent. (sometimes writing about the action of self harm is better than actually practicing it)
> 
> ALSO in no way am I saying bad has a crush on Skeppy nor am I suggesting he practices s/h. Please remember that this is merely FICTION. I would prefer if this work didn't reach any of the cc's.

He should have been happy. He should have been bursting with joy. Bad should have had a big smile pulled on his pink-tinted lips. His best friend had won the infamous love or host. Skeppy had finally found love!

So why did tears fall through the slits in the burnet’s eyes and scatter down onto his computer keyboard below when he found out she hadn't chosen host. Why did Bad’s chest clench so painfully at the thought of his best friend, dare he say person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with finding someone. 

Bad had strained to reach in his head for his safe place yet that person had been ripped away. Taken from him by THAT girl. What if Skeppy met up with her, what if Skeppy decided he wanted to live with her instead. Their months of planning to meet would be ruined, wouldn’t they? The thought was revolting. just thinking about how HIS Skeppy could be taken away so easily because of some stupid game show. 

It hurt too much for the older man to bare and the razors that had lied under his bathroom sink were sometimes too tempting. He knew that it was probably gonna be for the best if he just left, if he stopped watching the after-date, cause Skeppy was offering her a blue flower, and Bad longed to be that person. He longed to be the one Skeppy would want to hold in his sun tanned arms.

Is that cheesy?

for him yearn for his bestfriend. to reach for Skeppy's implacable comfort only to turn up empty handed and teary eyed. 

Sexuality was sometimes like that wasn’t it. sexual preferences sometimes did that. Skeppy liked girls, girls with skinny waists and pretty hair, and Bad wasn’t that. Bad was a man, 4 years older than the blue boy. He had to shave and skirts would never fit him like how they fit women. It was sickening really, the fact that Bad wanted his best friend to love him. That he’d give anything for Skeppy to look at him, just for a single moment. That he’d give anything for Skeppy to speak to him like he was speaking to her, with a soft voice filled with adoration and flustered nervousness.

Bad's final breaking point was when Skeppy asked her if she wanted his merch, it was just merch, but Skeppy always sent him his hoodies. That was what Skeppy did for him!

Bad had gotten his hopes up again. He had reached for something and let himself get attached to someone who was gonna leave. It was his fault for ever thinking someone could really like him. Ever thinking anyone actually wanted to stay.

His fault. 

The tears flooded Bad’s vision as he stumbled to the restroom. 

He needed things to stop, he needed everything to pause cause life was too loud right now. It was screaming in his ears, a bitter sound that made his head thump in pain. unimaginable pain. 

Why does love hurt so much?

Bad grasps the edge of the sink with his hands, observing the mirror that’s placed above it. His hazel eyes come into contact with his own reflection and the ugly feeling that had been sinking into his heart expands. It spreads through him like a wildfire, enlightening his veins with the dire need for everything to just be silent. The demon's ears are filled with the static thumping of his heart, it’s too loud. Why was he just himself? The burnet reached his hand up to feel the skin of his face under his fingers, it was his own skin, rough, not pretty. Her skin was probably soft, Skeppy would like her better. He would like the feeling of grasping her long hair in his fingers when they kissed. She probably had soft lips too. Bad’s were chapped and stress-bitten. Just more reasons why he wasn’t worth it. Why he wasn’t loveable, not loveable enough for Skeppy to want to stay.

the tears that ran wildly down Bad's cheeks didn’t come to a halt, and the way his heart clenched in ugly pain definitely didn’t stop. The razor would feel so good under his skin. It would take the pain away for a little bit. Usually, when bad felt overwhelmed he would go to Skeppy, he would ask the man for his comfort. But right now there was nothing, just an empty hole left to widen in his heart. 

“He still loves me” 

it repeats in his head like a mantra of forbidden words, yet still carries no meaning. His false reassurance doesn’t make the bugs that crawl effortlessly under his skin come to a stop. Bad notices how glassy his eyes are and how the beads of sweat that had been dripping down his forehead gather at his brows. The burnet's skin is buzzing with a warmth that is in no way domestic. It doesn’t reside safely in his head like the warmth that spreads through him when Skeppy sometimes flirts with him. This heat is clammy and disgusting, it makes his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. He wants to tear the feeling away, to wash clean of this ugliness that is love. The razors that lie under the sink are tempting, they call to him and he calls back, craving the sting of the cold metal on his arms. The feeling of blood slipping from his self made wounds. He derives pleasure from the burning sensation. It makes the fog in his head clear up.

Control

He craves to be in control of the feelings that grow crazily around his heart like weeds. He wants to cut them away with the sharp edge of his blade. Maybe he will. Something in his head tells him to stop as he reaches for the razors that reside safely under his sink. Something in his head is screaming at him to not do it. He doesn't listen. He can’t, cause Skeppy is no longer looking at him with his joy ridden brown eyes, he is no longer there to reassure him that every ounce of hatred that he feels for himself is false. Skeppy isn’t there to tell him that he's pretty, that he’s the most important person to him. He no longer has someone he can call at three in the morning when the sun has fallen far past the clouds to tell him that he’s perfect. no one to lean unto. It hurts him more than anything. It makes his heart fill with a obscene kind of hate for the person who stares back at him in the mirror.

“Of course the blade is the only option,” Bad tells himself as he pulls out the bundle of razors that have been buried under his sink for weeks, months even. other things topple out of the open cabinet in the process of getting out the small package but the green eyed man ignores it, focusing purely on the contents that lie under his fingers./

“Everything is fine'' the burnet reassures as he tries to pry open the plastic case that protects the blades. The anticipation makes his hands shake violently enhancing his struggle. 

“Everything is gonna be fine, just fine”

Bad’s babbling out loud like a mad man, talking in erroneous phrases. The burnet finds comfort in the action. It makes a smile pull on his lips, a laugh erupting from the demon’s gut, despite the tears that slide down his cheekbones. Suddenly, in not even a moment's time, the blade is on Bad's skin, and the sharp drag of the metal on his arm make’s the older man let out a shaky sigh, his self-deprecating laughter bubbling down. Bad’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he repeats the action over and over again. Continuously. 

His olds scars had faded, they’d been faded for months now, cause Skeppy was always there by his side, ready to listen to the man’s problems. Ready to comfort him when sudden urges come upon the burnet. But now there’s no one to call. No one to call when he’s crying at midnight for a lost lover that was never his. For a lost love that he never had in the first place. 

Thoughts of Skeppy no longer plague Bad's mind as blood drips from his wounds. He can only focus on the bright shine of the restroom light that hangs over his head. It’s blinding. When Bad lets his eyes slip close from pure exhaustion and blood loss Skeppy’s smile is no longer the sight that is engraved into the back of his eyelids. He only see's an empty black. the burnet can't quite tell if he likes it.

Maybe he’s dying? but somewhere in the back of Bad's head, locked far away is the part of himself that knows this won’t kill him, cause he’s done this a million times before. The burnet is aware that these cuts aren't nearly deep enough to stop his heart and that this release is only momentary. but It’s addicting like a drug. Like a drug, he can’t escape. The feeling of adrenaline that he gets from the control he has. A wrong cut could kill him. One wrong slash against his vein and everything is over.

Bad needs this to keep going, he feeds off of this momentary rush of relaxation. The burnet feels so clear and full of a distorted kind of tranquility as the warmth of blood drips from his marked-up skin and sinks into the bathroom tiles. He's buzzing with a love that is now safe. 

So safe.

But so excessively false.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos if you... enjoyed? sorry for any weird wording, I'm still trying to get better at writing.
> 
> Also comments are greatly appreciated, I love reading feedback, critique, Questions, ect.


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